


Grunkle in Heels

by WillowLong



Series: Stan and Mabel's Excellent Adventure [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Adorable, Crossdressing, Cute, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gravity Falls Is Weird, Minor Fiddleford H. McGucket/The Author | Original Stanford Pines, POV First Person, POV Grunkle Stan, POV Mabel Pines, Trans Male Character, Trans Stan, Uncle-Niece Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8106802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowLong/pseuds/WillowLong
Summary: Mabel is SOOO bored. It won't stop raining and there is NOTHING to do in the shack. Until Stan finally comes downstairs. Well, this is NOT how she expected the day to go. Shower, check. Clothes fresh and wrinkle free, check. Closed shop, check. He really needed this today. He almost had it too, until a bored Mabel intercepted him in the kitchen. Maybe he didn't have to abandon his plans after all. Anyway. If he couldn't trust Mabel, he couldn't trust anyone.





	1. Mabel is SOOO bored

**Author's Note:**

> I'm no sure how long this is going to be, but it's going to be switching back and forth from Mabel to Stan's point of views chapter to chapter. I just think Mabel and Stan need more casual family bonding. After all, they have to deal with the nerds day in and day out.

I wasn’t expecting it to rain. I mean, the sky was all sunny and happy yesterday. But I guess all good things come with an equally un-good price. Dark, angry rain clouds crept into our little town of Gravity Falls overnight like a panther. A dark, angry panther looking to pounce and kill the closest thing to him. I guess that was us. Ok, well. Maybe I’m being a bit over dramatic, but UGHHHHHHH. I’m so BORED. There’s nothing to do when it rains. I mean, well there is but I ran out of hot glue and no one wants to drive me to the store in this rain.

Dipper is so lucky to be a guy. Him and Soos can spent all day doing dumb boy things like blowing up hot dogs and farting or whatever. I can hear them right now, banging around in the attic building some kind of potato race track. I was into it for a bit until they started throwing the potatoes. I’m not looking to get a black eye. Wendy wasn’t even here. Grunkle Stan called her early this morning to tell her not to bother coming in. 

“Wendy? Hey, yeah. It’s Stan. Look. It’s raining cats and dogs out there. No one in their right mind is going to come out here today….Yeah…..WHAT?! Are you getting PAID?! Are you HERE?!....Yeah, Soos is here but I’m not paying him. It’s more like a play-date…...Yeah. Yeah. Ok. I guess that’s fair. Half a day’s pay but I want something in return. Like those cookies you brought in last week. OH! And a gallon of milk. I ran out like, two minutes ago….Thanks, Wendy. Uhh, be safe if you go out today. Trees fallin’ down everywhere and stuff. And DON’T GO OUT TO GET MY MILK IN THIS WEATHER. Got it?... Good girl. Good-bye.” 

I haven’t seen him since then. He wandered up into his room and I’m guessing he just fell back to sleep. I guess I could go bother Grunkle Ford, but he didn’t really let me do much. And him and Grunkle Fidds always acted really weird when we’re around. It’s like, we KNOW you’re kissing each other and gross romantic stuff so, like...what is your problem? I asked Grunkle Fidds once but he just mumbled something about my innocence or whatever. I like Grunkle Fidds. He dances with me. OH! Maybe I can get him to play his banjo for me! 

I wish I was a little bit taller so I didn’t have to drag a chair to reach the vending machine buttons. It gets really annoying. It’s like they want to keep me out or something. If they really wanted that they would change the password. Silly boys. Sneaking, sneaking, sneaking down the stairs. 

“I don’t know, darlin’. I ain’t too caught up on my bio-molecular science. I’ve been buildin’ doohickys and giant robots fer the last 30 years. I’m sorry I can’t be more help to ya on this one.” 

“Hmmm.”

Grunkle Ford wasn’t wearing a sweater? That is kinda weird. I guess he must be hot. I’m going to stay here on the stairs, just to see how this plays out. Grunkle Fidds looks real sad. I know how he feels. Like he can’t help and just has to stand there awkwardly wishing you knew what the heck was going on. 

“Hey, Fidds?” Grunkle Ford was using a dirty shop rag to wipe the sweat away from his face. Yup. He was hot. But he just wiped grease all over his forehead. Silly Fordsy. 

“Whatcha need, hon?” 

“I think we could use a break.” 

Oh my gosh. Ok. Ew. Grunkle Ford, ew. UGH! Grunkle Fidds?! Licking his face?! Nope. No. Nope. I’m going back upstairs. Now I see what Grunkle Fidds meant about my innocence. It’s gone. Woosh. Out the window and blown away with the rain. 

“Mmmm. Fidds. Yeah, just like that.”

UPSTAIRS NOW. 

Ughh! Something warm and squishy collided with me as I very discreetly slammed the door to the basement. 

“Woah, there! Where’s the fire, scamp?”

Ok. It was just Grunkle Stan. Nothing TOO scary. Just, you know. Face planted into my uncles underwear. This day wasn’t going to be very awesome at all. But Grunkle Stan was always great at making it better. He always had super cool taxidermy projects and sad romance movies and the best hugs in the world. Actually, a hug is probably just what I need after seeing...oh god, no don’t think about it. DO NOT think about it. 

“Grunkle Stan, I’ve just had my child-like innocence pried from my soul in the form of Grunkle Ford’s tongue and Grunkle Fidds face. Please, hug me.” 

I loved when he picked me up. He is super strong for an almost 60 year old man. He held me like I was a kid. Not the 13 year old young woman that I was. Ha! Who am I kidding. I’m a little kid. 

“Ick. Yeah, I can see how that would do it. They’re pretty gross, aren't they. Love and all that jazz.”

Mmm. Stan must have just showered. He actually smelled really good. Like, that green guy soap. Spring something. He was really warm, too. Like, hot shower warm. Nuzzling his neck seems too good to resist. Plus I know that he secretly loves it. The poor guy really missed out on a lot of love. Good thing I’m here. 

“I love you, Grunkle Stan.”

It’s kind of hard to hug him so nearly choking him with the best ‘I love you’ hug to the neck I could give was the next best thing. 

“Oh..you’re killin’ me, kid! I love you, too. Just let go of my neck ya damned spider monkey.”

“Giggles. Oh Grunkle Stan. You know I wouldn’t kill you. At least not when you’re holding me. You could fall forwards!” 

Aww. He nuzzled my cheek with his head! Just like a little kitten! His hair was wet. Yup. Clean Grunkle it is. 

“You smell really nice, Grunkle Stan. What’s the big occasion?”

“What are you implying? That there has to be an occasion for me to use soap?”

Staring is all I can do. Judgmental staring. Actually, he looks kind of...nervous? Am I being crazy again? Oh yeah. Set me at the kitchen table. Not suspicious at all. Ok, well maybe it actually isn’t. Yeah. I’m crazy. 

“What are you up to today, huh kid? You know. Since it’s raining and everything.”

“Ughhh, sigh. Nothing. Nothing at all. So BORED!”

My forehead makes a funny sound when it hits the table. WHAMP! Haha. Ow. Ok, not doing that anymore. Something banged on the kitchen counter. Ahh, Stan was making a pot of coffee. It always smelled so good but Grunkle Ford told me it will stunt my growth. Dipper said that’s just an old wives tale and that they just didn’t want me to have caffeine. Grunkle Fidds told me that he would get me some without caffeine one day. I’ll have to remind him.

“Well, what do you do when you’re bored? I’m sure there is something you can do. You live in a damn mystery museum with a inter-dimensional space hopping six fingered weirdo, an equally weird hillbilly who builds death rays for fun, a twin brother and whatever the hell Soos is, and most importantly, ME! The Man of Mystery!”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can face the two basement dwellers for at least a few more hours. Soos and Dipper are doing dumb boy things and you wouldn’t want to do any of the dumb girly stuff I like to do.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” 

Huh. Stan actually looked, kinda younger. Almost shy. What the heck was going on? I’m going to put on my most questioning look and see what exactly this old man was up to. 

“Okaaaay, glitter parade?”

“Sure.” 

Ok. Wasn’t expecting that. Time to up my game. 

“Talk about cute boys over ice cream and shows about teenage life issues?”

“Ditch the teenage life shows for literally anything else, and done.”

Uhhhh Huuuuu. Ok. This was getting interesting. 

“Total makeover INCLUDING nail painting.”

Stan wasn’t saying anything. HA! Got him. Oh, oh man. I think I screw up. He’s pushing his chair back. 

“Wait, Grunkle Stan I…”

He didn’t leave. But he did pull off his slipper. Okaay….Whaaaaaaat…..

“Um, Gr..Grunkle Stan?” 

Oh my gosh, oh my gosh. His toes were painted purple. He was wiggling them at me and, oh my gosh. BLUSHING! This is SOOOOOO CUUUTTE!!!

“How about all three?”


	2. Stress Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan prepares to indulge in his secret hobbies until a run in with Mabel in the kitchen throws off his day plans. Maybe for the better. Stan may or may not have a crush on his brother's boyfriend. We'll see.

What is that water noise. Did I leave the shower on? Wait, I didn’t take a shower before I turned in last night. Christ it’s dark in here. What time is it? 7:17? Oh, it’s raining. Wow, is it raining. Looks like a hurricane out there. Wait, can hurricanes reach Oregon? Screw it. No one is going to come to this dump in this weather. Better call Wendy. I’m not going to have her riskin’ her life driving for a less than minimum wage paycheck. 

Man, those kids are loud in the morning. What is that? Soos? Did he even go home? Not going to think about it. Don’t pay him anyways. Might as well live here, too. Mmmmmm. Smells like, I don’t know but it’s good. Someone is up early. 

“Hey, Fidds. What smells so good?” 

“Mornin’ Stan. I whipped up some lil’ pastry’s with that leftover bread dough the kids were usin’ to build dough-men last night. I’m still not sure why they were doin’ that…” 

Man, he was pretty cute when he was confused. Which was nearly always. Ford was a lucky guy. Maybe too lucky. Now don’t act like that, Stanley. He’s your brother. Be happy for him, you ass. 

“You are one of a kind, Fiddlenerd.” Ehh, I’ll give him a little nuggy, you know. To show him affection. That’s how you do it. 

“Hehe, yeah, I s’pose. That’s why ya’ll keep me around though, ain’t it. Keep your life’s entertainin’.” 

He doesn’t mean that, right? Questioning glare, do your stuff. Aw, jezze, he’s blushing. Oh man, there goes the inability to make direct eye contact. Yup, he’s an idiot. 

“You know, McGucket, for a genius, you’re as dumb as they come sometimes.”

“S’cuse me?”

Yeah, you look at me, ya dumbass.

“You’re not here for entertainment. You’re here because my brother likes you. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s not mentally capable of feeling love, but you’re the closest I’ve ever seen him come to it since he disowned me forty years ago. Hell, I wish you would have came around this place thirty years ago. Maybe we could have helped each other through Ford-rehabilitation.”

Ford-rehabilitation. I’m gonna have to remember that one. Damn-it McGucket. Stop lookin’ at me with those damn blue eyes and your face. Stop looking at me with your face. Alright. Time to cut this shit out. 

“That would have been, that would have been nice.”  
He’s lookin’ at the floor again. What was so interesting about that damned floor. 

“Ya’ know, Stan, Ford and I have been talkin’ and-”

NOPE. Calling Wendy.

“Hold that though, Fidds. I gotta call my employees and tell em’ I’m not payin’ em today. I’ll see ya later.”

“Alright, Stanley. I suggest drinkin’ some milk with those pastries. They’re a bit sweeter than I anticipated.”

“You got it.” 

Man. This was not going to end well. Whatever. I can deal with that nonsense later. Where did I put that phone? 

“Hey, this is Wendy.”

“Wendy? Hey, yeah. It’s Stan. Look. It’s raining cats and dogs out there. No one in their right mind is going to come out here today.”

“You mean, YOU’RE voluntarily closing the shop? For the whole day?”

“Yeah.”

“So since it’s not my choice does that mean I’m still getting paid?”

“WHAT?! Are you getting PAID?! Are you HERE?!”

“Soos is there though. I know he is because he and Dipper called me at 2am to tell me about living scarecrows.”

“Yeah, Soos is here but I’m not paying him. It’s more like a play-date.”

“But Mr. Piiiiiinnesss. I have things to buy. Like gas and food and you’re all I have. You’re like, my cool grandpa who’s also my boss and instead of birthday cards full of money, I pretend to clean your bathroom for money. Can I at least get a half a day’s pay?”

Damn kids making me feel important. I should make them pay me for emotional damage. But I see where she’s coming from. But she ain’t getting out of it that easy.

“Yeah. Yeah. Ok. I guess that’s fair. Half a day’s pay but I want something in return. Like those cookies you brought in last week. OH! And a gallon of milk. I ran out like, two minutes ago.”

“Ughhh! Thank you SOOOO much, Stan. You’re the greatest boss ever. I love every weird inch of you.”

“Thanks, Wendy. Uhh, be safe if you go out today. Trees fallin’ down everywhere and stuff. And DON’T GO OUT TO GET MY MILK IN THIS WEATHER. Got it?”

“You know it, boss.”

“Good girl. Good-bye.” 

Wow. It’s not even 8am and I want to rip my hair out. This is not going to be a good day. Maybe I’ll just go back to sleep. Or maybe I’ll do something else. Yeah, you know what? I never have a day just to myself anymore. I mean, if i really want to be honest, I don’t really want one. After god damn decades of being alone in that cold basement it’s pretty nice having a house full of idiot geniuses and kids who actually love me. That’s still one that I can’t really grasp, but hey. 

In retrospect, it probably should be a blessing that the house is full now. I shouldn’t be doing this shit anymore. I’m way too old and creepy enough as it is. If anyone found out they wouldn’t let me be around the kids. I might never see them again. They’d think I was some kind of pedophile of something. Even with Ford home and Fidds here, I can’t lose the twins. Not after everything I did to keep them. But, Christ it would be nice to feel that fabric brushing against my legs. I could shave today. I haven’t walked in those silver pumps in months. God, I want to look good. Just for a little bit. Just for an hour. Just to relax and escape everything that’s happened for a while. I deserve that. I deserve just a day. I just won’t leave my bedroom and I’ll keep the door locked. If anyone asks, I’m sick. Easy. Done. Settled. Now, a shower. I can’t smell like ass when I wear that dress. I can’t exactly wash it very often now. 

Man, it’s been awhile since I last shaved. My legs look like the damn wolfman’s. Wish I would have picked up a new razor. Ah, well. I’ll just have to go over it a few times. I can’t really get the chest with this piece of junk. I’ll just have to suffer on that one. The kids would probably notice that anyways. Actually, I might have to start wearing pants around the house. Who am I kidding. I’m not going to wear pants. I can re-apply my toe nail polish later. It’ll give me something to do instead of just sitting on my bed watching t.v. Now, shave my face and I’m good. Clean as a newborn. Ish. Good enough. Now, I’ll just go get some food so I don’t have to leave anytime during the day and I’ll be ready to rock and roll. 

 

“Woah, there! Where’s the fire, scamp?”

I’ve never seen Mabel running out of the basement that quickly. Jezze, she was white as a ghost. Well, in theory. They’re actually kinda blue. But whatever.  
“Grunkle Stan, I’ve just had my child-like innocence pried from my soul in the form of Grunkle Ford’s tongue and Grunkle Fidds face. Please, hug me.” 

Oh, wow. That was...wow. Wasn’t expecting that one. Poor kid. Grunkle Stan to the rescue. I’m so glad I can still pick these kids up. Makes me wish I had some of my own. If Fidds had come by all those years ago. Just to pick up some of his things, or yell at Ford and he found me here instead...STAN STOP. NOW. 

“Ick. Yeah, I can see how that would do it. They’re pretty gross, aren't they. Love and all that jazz.”

She was such a sweet girl. Reminds me a lot of myself if I was, you know, a girl with a terrible case of ADHD. Plus, I hate unicorns and cats. Glitter I can do. Everyone likes glitter. The sweaters can get pretty itchy, though.

Awww, man. I can’t think of anything to complain about when she buries her face into my neck like that. Feels like my heart is in my damn throat. I hate kids. 

“I love you, Grunkle Stan.”

Ok...Ok, she’s choking me. Too much love. 

“Oh..you’re killin’ me, kid! I love you, too. Just let go of my neck ya damned spider monkey.”

“Giggles. Oh Grunkle Stan. You know I wouldn’t kill you. At least not when you’re holding me. You could fall forwards!” 

She really is my niece. Spunky and quick witted and sharp as a tack. Can’t give her an affection nuggy with my hands full. A wet hair nuzzle to the cheek should work just as well. 

“You smell really nice, Grunkle Stan. What’s the big occasion?”

Ok I take it back. She’s too much of my niece. Stop being so observant, kid. Now I’m glad I didn’t shave my chest. Thank you Ford for being a horny mess and distracting her from my legs. 

“What are you implying? That there has to be an occasion for me to use soap?”

Looks like I might not be getting out of here for a while. Shit. It’s just as well. I guess this is fate's way of telling me to stop putting of women's clothing and spend some time with my great niece. But first, coffee. 

“What are you up to today, huh kid? You know. Since it’s raining and everything.”

“Ughhh, sigh. Nothing. Nothing at all. So BORED!”

She must be miserable. I know what it’s like being cooped up with nothing to do. But I mean it’s not like she’s stuck in some shady motel room listening to the neighbors fighting and….whatever THAT noise was. She had plenty of people around. And of course, I’m here. I’m fine with putting off my little dress up time for her. Even though, it would have been really, really nice. But I couldn’t leave my room anyways. Maybe it wouldn’t have been worth it after all. 

“Well, what do you do when you’re bored? I’m sure there is something you can do. You live in a damn mystery museum with a inter-dimensional space hopping six fingered weirdo, an equally weird hillbilly who builds death rays for fun, a twin brother and whatever the hell Soos is, and most importantly, ME! The Man of Mystery!”

“Yeah, I don’t think I can face the two basement dwellers for at least a few more hours. Soos and Dipper are doing dumb boy things and you wouldn’t want to do any of the dumb girly stuff I like to do.”

Forgot about the whole tongue, face thing. But I’m down with girly things. I mean, I’m not about to go prancing down main street with a rainbow cape, but I’m pretty sure I own more tubes of lipstick then she does. I know for a fact I know how to apply eye-shadow better than her. Maybe, maybe I don’t have to give up my plans. Maybe I could teach her a few things. She won’t tell anyone if I ask her. I trust her more than anyone I know. More than Dipper, more than Ford. I’m going to just see what she’s got to say. 

“Oh yeah? Try me.”

“Okaaaay, glitter parade?”

Everyone like’s glitter. Maybe we could get Fidds and Ford with a glitter cannon. I’m going to have to invest in a glitter cannon. 

“Sure.” 

“Talk about cute boys over ice cream and shows about teenage life issues?”

Eww. Teenage life issues? I think not. I don’t know if she’s aware of my sexual preferences either, but hell. I’m about to teach her how to put on foundation. Might as well know I like dick as much as I like boobs. 

“Ditch the teenage life shows for literally anything else, and done.”

“Total makeover INCLUDING nail painting.”

Welp. I was going to repaint my toes today anyways. It’s now or never. Ok, do I really want to do this? Yes. Show her your damn toes. 

“Wait, Grunkle Stan I…”

I’m not leaving, kid. I’d never leave you. 

“Um, Gr..Grunkle Stan?” 

Maybe this was a mistake. She looked, weird. Ok...she’s squealing. So, not a mistake. Ok, this is actually kinda embarrassing. I wasn’t expecting THIS kind of reaction. It feels, well, good. 

“How about all three?” 

I want to die thinking about that smile.


	3. Detective Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan psychs himself up. Mabel is a sneaky little duck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are a little bit shorter so I combined them instead of doing separate chapters. Next one is the big one, guys. Cute angsty fluff and Stan's emotions galore.

Ok, so Grunkle Stan paints his toe nails. That is awesome! I wish I would have known that like, a year ago! We have so much nail painting time to catch up on! I wonder if he needs any different colors. Maybe all he has is purple. OH! Maybe that’s his favorite color. I can’t believe I’ve never asked Stan what his favorite color was. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you painted your toes?! I could have done SO MANY THINGS with that information last year. Do you paint your fingernails, too? Or is this like a secret thing, cause you’re a boy and all that nonsense. Is purple the only color that you have or-”

“Woah, woah there kiddo. Calm down. I can’t process that many words in less than five seconds. “

Wow, this kid is really excited about this. And she only knows about my toes. Sheesh, has she really been THAT starved for female companionship? I thought Fidds was covering all of that with the Jacuzzi dates (bubble baths in the trough in the back yard but, hey. It’s better than nothin’) and weird banjo dance parties. I guess I was wrong. 

“This is what you’re going to do. Go upstairs and get everything you want to use for a make-over. Including clothes because you’re not going to want to be wearing your pajamas. When you’re ready, come into my room. We have to talk before you get to indulge in your weird teenage make-up fetish.”

Ok. Maybe that was a little hypocritical. 

“Ok, Grunkle Stan! Wait, YOUR bedroom? I thought I wasn’t allowed in there?”

“You can go in there if I say you can. I’m not going to yell at you for doing what you’re told, jeeze kid!”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
Stan was going to let me into his room? This really must be a secret. What am I going to grab? I have no idea what I want to use for a make-over. Uhh..should I just grab everything? I mean, I HAVE to bring all of my nail polish, at least. Stan never answered my question about what he had. Was he going to let me paint his toes or was he going to do it himself? Oh my gosh! Maybe he’ll do mine for me! Am I making this weird? Probably. Oh well. Wooah! Ouch. Ok, pay attention when you’re walking up stairs, dork. 

“Hey Mabel! Did you change your mind about potato wars?”

Was Dip holding a ...slingshot? 

“Yeah, dude! It’s super fun! We almost broke the window a second ago!”

Yeah..No. Closet and dresser. 

“No, sorry guys. I’m going to…”

Grunkle Stan PROBABLY didn’t want the guys to know about this. I mean, he WAS letting me into his room. Maybe it’s secret time. Not lying. Just, not elaboration on my whereabouts. Yeah, that works. 

“Just going to go do a thing in a place that’s not here. Dipps? Have you seen the bag I keep my glitter body spray in? Or any loose nail polish bottles? I need EVERYTHING I HAVE.”

I guess my pink dress should look nice. It is kinda chilly in here and that is really nice and fluffy. I don’t really have many “dress up clothes”. I could just wear a nice sweater. Nah, this was a special occasion. 

“Uhhh, I think it’s under your bed. Are you going out in this weather? No offence, but I don’t think Grenda and Candy are worth dying over.” 

“I’m not going out.”

“Okkk?” 

He’s asking too many questions! I can’t lie to him. Time to leave. Wow, this bag is heavy. I think I need to weed out some of the duplicate blushes and lip glosses. 

“You need help carrying that, little dude?”

“Nah, I got it Soos. Thanks.”

Just don’t fall down the stairs, Mabel. Don’t fall down the stairs. 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Talking. God I hate talking. Emotions and all of that bullshit. Jesus, Stanley, stop being a pussy. You are grown man, deal with it. Ughhh. Fuck. First thing’s first, what do you have to hide for real. Nudes, in the trunk. Yeah, I’m NOT wearing those underwear today. That kinda blows but let’s not make this weirder than it already is. Into the trunk. Eww, whatever that is, into the burn pile. That looks ok. Hell, I’ll even make the bed. 

Alright, which one of these skanky dresses is the most appropriate to wear in front of a 13 year old. Despite the obvious, ‘you should NEVER have to ask yourself this question’. Oh, man. I forgot about this one. I haven’t worn pink in a few years. I used to love this old thing. The way the bottom flares out right below the knees and how damn soft it was. Ha. It makes me look like a secretary. But you know, like the kind that was secretly blowing the boss under the desk. Still, it wasn’t outlandishly revealing. It’ll work. I’ll just hang it in near the front for now. Now, where the hell did I put that drawer key? Man am I getting old. 

“Grunkle Stan? It’s me. Can I come in?”

Jesus, am I going to puke? Butterflies? What the hell. Am I actually a 13 year old too? That would make a hell of a lot of sense. Not too late to back out. 

“Grunkle Stan?”

You’re doing this for her. Open the door. Deep breath.

“Hey, pumpkin. Come on in. Just watch the carpet, it bunches up-”

And she fell. Holy hell that was a lot of make-up. Was that blush or a palate of dried blood? How the hell did she manage to blend that one? Oh yeah, she didn’t. This is going to be fun. 

“Sorry, Grunkle Stan.” 

God, she was adorable. There is that throat thing again. How did I get so lucky? 

“It’s alright. Are you alright? How did you manage to accumulate this much make up? Better question, WHY? It any of this glitter free?”

“What’s the point of make up if it doesn’t have sparkle? That’s what helps make a woman so beautiful! I can show you, if you want.”

Ha. Is she in for a surprise. Just do it while she has that look on her face. Let that be the last thing you see before you die of embarrassment or the more likely chance that she is never going to talk to your creepy ass again. 

“That’s not going to be necessary, sweetheart. Remember how I told you that we needed to talk? Well, here we are, having that talk.”

And there’s that worried face. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to yell at you or anything. I have to tell you something about myself. Something I’ve never told anyone. Well, I mean your Uncle Ford knows but that’s just because he’s an observant ass when he’s not just being a regular ass.”

I’ll never forgive myself for not looking in the mirror before I went into the nerd cave.  
“I’m listening…” 

Even her puzzled face was cute. Deep breath, idiot. 

“So, you know that I paint my toes.”

“Yeah! I wish you would have told me before. I don’t care, Grunkle Stan. Robbie paints his nails. It’s not THAT weird.”

“Yeah. But that’s not what I have to tell you. It’s something a little more, personal than that.”

Why is she making THAT face? Like I’m an idiot. Oh, well I am but as far as I know, she didn’t think that as much as she should. Did she finally think and let the pieces click? 

“Look, Grunkle Stan. I don’t care if you like boys. I watch Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford doing gross relationship stuff every day. Plus everyone in the house knows you have a crush on Grunkle Fidds.”

WHAT!? Well, that’s not...what? How? Jesus, those kids needed to stop talking to weird old men. What else did they know? 

“Umm, that’s...that’s not it. But who told you about McGucket? Was it him? Was it my brother? What exactly did they tell you?”

“They didn’t tell me anything, but now I know I’m right.”

That smug little shyster. 

“So, are you going to tell me, or…?”

Fuck it. I’ll just show her. 

“Jezze, kid. Just follow me.”

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
Well, at least I made it into the bedroom before I spilled every tube of lipstick I owned onto the floor. 

“Sorry, Grunkle Stan.”

Ouch. Ouch and eww. Stan really needed to vacuum his carpet a bit more often. 

“It’s alright. Are you alright? How did you manage to accumulate this much make up? Better question, WHY? It any of this glitter free?”

Glitter free? Whaat? He OBVIOUSLY knew nothing about the art of applying make up. It’s a good thing he was a boy. 

“What’s the point of make up if it doesn’t have sparkle? That’s what helps make a woman so beautiful! I can show you, if you want.”

Maybe he’ll let me test new techniques on him like Dipper does. 

“That’s not going to be necessary, sweetheart. Remember how I told you that we needed to talk? Well, here we are, having that talk.”

Woah, it’s like he could read my mind. Oh, yeah. He said we needed to talk. Was this whole make over thing a ruse to calm me for some horrible punishment? I don’t think I did anything wrong. Did I?

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to yell at you or anything. I have to tell you something about myself. Something I’ve never told anyone. Well, I mean your Uncle Ford knows but that’s just because he’s an observant ass when he’s not just being a regular ass.”

Ok, Well this was getting interesting. 

“I’m listening…” 

Interesting and annoyingly confusing. I hate confusing. 

“So, you know that I paint my toes.”

Uhh, DUH. You just showed me. I know you’re not THAT old. 

“Yeah! I wish you would have told me before. I don’t care, Grunkle Stan. Robbie paints his nails. It’s not THAT weird.”

Most of the goth kids in my school painted their nails. But I guess Stan dd grow up in the 70’s. People were kinda dumb back then.

“Yeah. But that’s not what I have to tell you. It’s something a little more, personal than that.”

Oh, boy. He was going to tell me he liked boys. Really, Grunkle Stan? Like I don’t have EYES? I’m a GIRL. I guess that was also something they didn’t like back then. But I mean, Ford and Fidds didn’t seem to care. But then again, they were nerds and didn’t have much else to lose back then. And for some reason, smarter people seemed not to be as ignorant on social issues like that. They had better things to focus on. Like building giant death robots and alien portholes. Stan had to prove everything by himself. I guess I’ll let him off the hook. Well, mostly. 

I know he’s been watching Grunkle Ford and Fidds for a long time. He always looks so sad when they are cuddling or kissing or other cute/gross coupley things. I know he likes Grunkle Fiddleford. I actually have a weird feeling he likes Ford too, but I’m not going to jump the gun on that one. I mean, it’s not like Dipper and I don’t do that kinda stuff but even we know not to go around announcing it. Time to do a little detective work. 

“Look, Grunkle Stan. I don’t care if you like boys. I watch Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford doing gross relationship stuff every day. Plus everyone in the house knows you have a crush on Grunkle Fidds.”

Haha! I got him. Ok, well, maybe. He kinda looks like he’s going to puke. Oh, no. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

“Umm, that’s...that’s not it. But who told you about McGucket? Was it him? Was it my brother? What exactly did they tell you?”

Well, that wasn’t difficult. I’m glad I wasn’t crazy though. Man, I’m good at this. A regular Ducktective! I could do this for a living. 

“They didn’t tell me anything, but now I know I’m right.”

Now, if that wasn’t what he wanted to tell me, what the heck was it? 

“So, are you going to tell me, or…?”

“Jezze, kid. Just follow me.”

He looks worried again. This must really be big. Wait, what could he have to show me in the bathroom? Oh, god. I’m not looking going to have to look at some weird growth or anything, am I? He usually had us do that wherever we were. Welp. I guess I’ll find out.


	4. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan breaks down. Mabel is there to hold him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mehhh...Stan and Mabel make me feel horrible wonderful things. I love them both.

Alright, Stan. Hold it together. You’ve made it this far and it’s not like you’re telling your dad or something. This was your niece. She probably sees shit like this every other day. Hell, she was in high school. Wasn’t there like this whole, ‘equality’ thing going on now? Well, here goes nothing.

“Alright, sweetheart. This is what I need to tell you.” 

Slip the key in the lock and turn. No going back. Open the damn drawer.

“Woooah...Grunkle Stan?”

Christ. She looks like she’s just been given an all access pass to the candy and puppy store. 

“What is all of this?”

Bless her god damn little heart. What is it. 

“What does it look like?”

Please don’t hate me, kid.

“It looks like a drawer full of makeup. Really good makeup. Can I- can I look at it?”

I don’t think I’ve heard her voice so full of wonder and it WASN’T directed at some random guy she decidedly ‘loved’. It WAS really nice make up. You can’t cover up 60 years of wrinkles with cheap ass ‘Alf’ makeup. 

“Knock yourself out. Just be careful. Some of those powders are loose.” 

“Woah. ‘Bear Minerals?’ ‘Klinique’? ‘Suburban Decay’?! Grunkle Stan! This palette is almost $400! Where did you get all of this?!”

“Where do you think I got it? I got it from a store.”

I did get it from a store. But I sure as shit didn’t spend $400 on it. No one looks twice at the old man walking around the rich housewives makeup stores in the mall. Just have to remember to wear deep pocketed pants on shopping day. 

“Oh my gosh. These are the eye shadows of my dreams. Wait...Grunkle Stan? WHY do you have a drawer full of hundreds of dollars worth of makeup?”

Annnnd there it is. Now or never. Just let it out. Don’t think before you speak. You have no problem doing it any other day. Christ, my stomach is twisted. Are my hands shaking? REALLY?

“I’m not going to wear cheap makeup. What do I look like? A street walker?”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Alright, sweetheart. This is what I need to tell you.” 

What could he have to tell me that involved a locked drawer in his bathroom. Oh my god, what if there’s a severed head in there?! That would be so cool!

That was TOTALLY not a severed head.

“Woooah...Grunkle Stan?”

Oh. My GOSH. Whaaaaat?

“What is all of this?”

Ok, what? What is going on? 

“What does it look like?”

Makeup. Super incredibly nice makeup. The kind they don’t let me even look at in the stores. 

“It looks like a drawer full of makeup. Really good makeup. Can I- can I look at it?”

I want to touch it. I want to feel all of it’s glory pulsing through my fingers and into my blood and settling in my soul. 

“Knock yourself out. Just be careful. Some of those powders are loose.” 

LOOSE POWDERS?! Oh my lord. These makeup brands were so expensive. One of these palettes could pay from everything I just spilled onto the carpet. 

“Woah. ‘Bear Minerals?’ ‘Klinique’? ‘Suburban Decay’?! Grunkle Stan! This palette is almost $400! Where did you get all of this?!”

I can’t process this. It’s all so beautiful. 

“Where do you think I got it? I got it from a store.”

Uh huh. Don’t drool, Mabel. Wait a minute. Why did he have all of this?

“Oh my gosh. These are the eye shadows of my dreams. Wait...Grunkle Stan? WHY do you have a drawer full of hundreds of dollars worth of makeup?”

Is he, shaking?

“I’m not going to wear cheap makeup. What do I look like? A street walker?”

What. Why-why wouldn’t he tell anyone. Why did he keep it locked in a drawer in his bathroom? Didn’t he trust us? Didn’t he want to be happy? Did he think we’d make fun of him? If Ford knows, why wouldn’t he tell us? Why wouldn’t he have told me sooner? How long has he been hiding this? He had to be so sad hiding this from everyone. Grunkle Stan...

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Grunkle Stan? Do you really wear all of this? Why haven’t I ever seen it?”

She looks so, sad? Fuck I knew this was a terrible idea. She’s never going to speak to me again. She’s going to run out of her and call her parents and tell them what a freaky weirdo I am and they’re never going to want to see me again. What did you do, Stan? Jesus you’re such a fuck up. 

“Mabel. Mabel, I’m so sorry. Please, forget I said anything. Let’s just go watch T.V and pretend it didn’t happen, alright? It was a joke. Haha. Yeah. Just a joke. Your Grunkle sure is a jokster, ain’t he.”

God I’m an idiot. Mom and dad were right. Just get her out of the bathroom. Maybe you can save this. 

“Grunkle Stan. NO! No. Stop pushing me. Sit down. Sit on the toilet and listen to me. Ok?”

Her face is so, broken. I haven’t seen her this upset since she left to go home last fall. God, I really fucked up. Don’t cry, you’re better than that. Just numb it out and do what she wants for now. 

“Mabel, I’m so sorry, I-” 

“Grunkle Stan, please. Please just shut up.”

Her voice, god, her voice. It had sounded so bright and happy just a few minutes ago. Now it was choked and strained. Oh my god, what have I done?

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Grunkle Stan? Do you really wear all of this? Why haven’t I ever seen it?”

I guess I can see why he would want to keep this a secret. I mean, it’s not exactly a normal thing, right? People tended to be pretty mean about this kind of stuff. But I still wish I had known. Don’t feel so sad, girl. He’s telling you. That has to mean something. It means he trusts you. Maybe as much as you trust him. He’s the bravest, most amazing man you’ve ever met and that includes dad and Grunkle Ford. He looks so scared. Like a kitten, who was abandoned by it’s mom because it wasn’t worth taking care of and left in the rain. All alone. Fighting to eat and sleep somewhere warm and dry. Then finding his family again and being told to leave. Ouch. My heart hurts. 

“Mabel. Mabel, I’m so sorry. Please, forget I said anything. Let’s just go watch T.V and pretend it didn’t happen, alright? It was a joke. Haha. Yeah. Just a joke. Your Grunkle sure is a jokster, ain’t he.”

Pretend it didn’t happen. PRETEND IT DIDN’T HAPPEN. No way in heck is that EVER going to happen. Stan deserved to be happy, no matter how weird or gross or creepy he was. How dare he think otherwise!

“Grunkle Stan, please. Please just shut up.”

Don’t you cry, girl. You’re the smile master. It’s time to do your thing!

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“No, I’m sorry, Grunkle Stan.”

Oh God, those eyes. Even full of tears she managed to smile with her whole face. How does someone even do that? Wait, she’s smiling. But, sad? Wait, why was she sorry? 

“What are you sorry for? I’m the one potentially ruining the greatest thing to ever happen to them for like, the hundredth time.”

At least you’re getting old. There’s not much else you can fuck up until you’re dead. 

“I’m sorry that I never asked you what your favorite color was.”

My-my favorite color? I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that. After all of this. After I drop a fucking A-Bomb on her, that’s what she wants to know? My favorite color? She wasn’t pushing or running away. She didn’t even seem that shocked. She looked heartbroken and happy simultaneously mixed with her natural aura of bubbly personality. She was an anomaly in herself. Ford needed to study her. 

“My favorite color is Burgundy.” 

“Like Grunkle Ford’s old sweater? The one he wears when he goes into the woods at night like a creepy gnome stalker?”

Haha. A gnome stalker. That’s my girl. This was alright. It’s alright. She didn’t look quite so, broken now. Ford’s sweater. Jesus. 

“Haha. Yeah. Like creepo’s sweater. What makes you ask?” 

She was wandering into the bedroom, the sound of nail polish bottles clinking together is a nice sign. 

“Ah Ha! Because I wanted to give you some nail polish. I have SOOO many extras.” 

I think now is as good a time as any to get into the fun stuff. I really want to show her the PROPER way to apply mascara. 

“That’s really cool of you, pumpkin. Now how about you let a pro show you how to paint your face. You’ll have every creature on the planet lustin’ for you when I’m finished.”

She looked like Ford the first time he saw a shooting star. A grin that could shatter solid steel. Ahh. Stan. You’re a good uncle. 

“We still get to use glitter, right?”

“Of course. That’s how you show your beauty or whatever, right?” 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“No, I’m sorry, Grunkle Stan.”

This is a great thing, Grunkle Stan. It’s time to get this sad nonsense over with and into the fun stuff. 

“What are you sorry for? I’m the one potentially ruining the greatest thing to ever happen to them for like, the hundredth time.”

Ignore that, Mabel. Stubborn old men. You know how this is going to end. 

“I’m sorry that I never asked you what your favorite color was.”

He looked like someone just handed him a hundred dollars and walked away. He was looking at me like I was the hundred dollars. I never thought I’d be so happy to be compared to money. By myself. I might be hanging around Stan too much. 

“My favorite color is Burgundy.” 

Burgundy. Not red. Not purple. Ohhh, Grunkle Stan. You poor thing. 

“Like Grunkle Ford’s old sweater? The one he wears when he goes into the woods at night like a creepy gnome stalker?”

There’s that smile! Mabel, you’re the master. 

“Haha. Yeah. Like creepo’s sweater. What makes you ask?” 

Because I need to get rid of some of this crap and you need more.

“Ah Ha! Because I wanted to give you some nail polish. I have SOOO many extras.” 

I never thought I’d see a grown man so happy to get a half used bottle of nail polish. 

“That’s really cool of you, pumpkin. Now how about you let a pro show you how to paint your face. You’ll have every creature on the planet lustin’ for you when I’m finished.”

He’s going to do my make up FOR ME? Oh my gosh. This is the best. Like, I have to have the greatest life in the world. My uncles are literally the most amazing people in the world. Who else can say that they’ve had their makeup done by the same man who you smashed in zombie’s skulls with? Or that your uncle and his boyfriend made a portal that opened up a gateway to other dimensions. 

“We still get to use glitter, right?”

That was the most important question, right now. 

“Of course. That’s how you show your beauty or whatever, right?” 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“Alright. Now this will make your eyes look like they’re saying “Hey. Look at how amazing these hazel eyes are,” instead of “HOLY HELL LOOK AT MY FACE!”?   
That wasn’t too hard. The little brat’s skin was already practically flawless. Apparently the zit stage of puberty was taking it’s sweet time on her. What one of these lipsticks is going to work, here. Ahh. Here we go. She’ll look pretty good in this pink. I never wear it. It makes me look like I drew on my face with a crayon. HA! I even have a lip liner for it. I don’t actually remember getting this. Ah, well. Not questioning anything else today. 

“This, is your mouths best friend. Open.”

For never putting makeup on another person, I don’t think this looks half bad. Actually, wow. God, how was she related to me? She’s a goddamn angel. 

“Am I done, Grunkle Stan?! Can I look?”

“Haha. Yeah, go ahead.”

“Oh my gosh!”

Her eye’s looked like they might pop out of their sockets. Haha. Ahh, Stan. You never fail to impress. 

“I look like a princess!” 

If you only knew.

“You are a princess. You don’t need makeup to be that beautiful. But, it’s fun, huh?” 

“Grunkle Stan! You need to do yours. I wanted to, but I want to see what you look like when a master does it. I can do it some other time.”

She want’s me to do it, because I’m the master. At applying makeup. I mean, I guess in this house, I am. God this family is weird. 

“Alright. It won’t take me very long. I could probably get this done in my sleep if I tried hard enough. You brought your clothes, right?”

Might as well give her a full reveal. 

“Yup! I brought my pink dress! It will match this lipstick PERFECT!”

“Alright. I’m going to go grab mine and you’re going to change in the bedroom while i get ready in here. Got it? And don’t go snooping around. It’s for your own good. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Alright. Now this will make your eyes look like they’re saying “Hey. Look at how amazing these hazel eyes are,” instead of “HOLY HELL LOOK AT MY FACE!”? 

I can’t wait to see what he did. I mean, it’s not going to be as good as when I do it, I already can tell that by the extensive lack of roll on glitter shadow, but still. 

“This, is your mouths best friend. Open.”

Oh, wow. That lipstick is actually really pretty. It’s so pink! 

“Am I done, Grunkle Stan?! Can I look?”

I hate anticipation. 

“Haha. Yeah, go ahead.”

Yes! Wooooahh. Ok. I wasn’t expecting that. That doesn’t even look like my face. I’ve never been this pretty in my life.

“Oh my gosh!”

How did he do that? I’ve never even seen him watching any tutorial videos. Was this just another one of his old man powers? Did they all know how to do this? 

“I look like a princess!” 

If only those up tight unicorns could see me now. I’m going to have to have Stan do my makeup before my next woodland adventure.

“You are a princess. You don’t need makeup to be that beautiful. But, it’s fun, huh?” 

Suck up. Wait, he hasn’t done his yet! I kinda want to but, he was sooo good at it! I want to see what he will look like. Wow, this is so weird. 

“Grunkle Stan! You need to do yours. I wanted to, but I want to see what you look like when a master does it. I can do it some other time.”

“Alright. It won’t take me very long. I could probably get this done in my sleep if I tried hard enough. You brought your clothes, right?”

“Yup! I brought my pink dress! It will match this lipstick PERFECTLY!”  
Oh my GOOOOSSSHH! This was going to be so much fun! I wonder what we’re going to do! I wonder if we’re going to leave the room. What is he changing into? UGHHHH!!! I hate waiting!! 

“I’m going to go grab mine and you’re going to change in the bedroom while i get ready in here. Got it? And don’t go snooping around. It’s for your own good.”

Shutter. I know that, Grunkle Stan. Oh, god, Fidd’s tongue. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
Just do what you normally do. Nothing fancy, Stan. Foundation is your main concern. Fuck, I’m glad I shaved today. Alright. Don’t leave her out there too long. She can’t keep from looking around forever. The last thing you need is to explain to her parents why she was looking at porn in her uncle’s bedroom. 

This dress still fits. Damn, it fits really well. Why did I ever stop wearing this? One last look over. Eh. I guess that’s as good as your hair is going to get. Fuck wigs. I like my hair. Ok. Well, she seemed ok with it in theory. This is going to be the real test. Deep breath.

“Mabel?”

“Come on, Grunkle Stan! I’ve been waiting FOREVER.” 

Alright. Out we go. What are you doing, Stanley Pines.

“Oh my God.”

FUCK. She looks HORRIFIED. Oh my god, fuck. I can’t move. IDIOT. WEIRD, CREEPY FUCKING IDIOT. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Mabel?”

Oh my gosh, FINALLY!

“Come on, Grunkle Stan! I’ve been waiting FOREVER.” 

EXCITEMENT!

“Oh my God.”

I can’t breath. 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Gr-Grunkle Stan?

SHIT. Well, there’s nothing you can do now. It’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. Your entire life you’ve been fucking shit up. You finally have something good and you go and open your big mouth like the jerk that you are. Dad was right. I am the screw up. Ford should have went to that college. Maybe he wouldn’t have built that damn portal and almost ended the damn world. Hell, you almost did that yourself by being too goddamn stubborn to hold his hand. 

You selfish, dickhead. You should have died before Ford ever had the chance to call you. You shouldn’t have made it out of the fucking womb. You’re broken. Un-fixable. Disgusting and untrustworthy. You want to fuck your brother and his boyfriend. Your fucking BROTHER, STANLEY. Jesus Christ. You need to be shot. Thrown into the bottomless pit and never returned. Everyone thought Ford was the freak. HA! If they only knew. Look at what you did, Stan. Look at her. She was the only one. She was the only one who would trust you. She loves you and you’ve fucking ruined it. You’ve probably ruined her. How is she ever going to look at you again? 

She’s standing. Good. Run away from me, sweetheart. Get as far away from me as you can. I’m never going to do anything but hurt you if you stay. Just like everyone else around me gets hurt. I shouldn’t be here. I should go back to Columbia. Maybe they’ll finally get smart and shoot me. 

“Grunkle Stan. You’re-you’re beautiful.”

“It’s ok, honey...Wait, what?” 

“You look amazing. I-I can’t speak. Speechless, I mean. Woah.” 

I’m beautiful? She was trying to make me feel better about this. She doesn’t want me to feel bad about completely ruining her fucking summer. Why does this hurt so bad? 

“I’m so sorry for this, honey. I should have known better than to put you through this.” 

Such a fucking idiot. What? Now you’re going to cry? You don’t have the right to cry. You’ve never had the right to cry. Waste of space. That’s all you are. 

No, don’t come over here. I can’t deal with it, I can’t…

“Give me your hand. Let’s go sit on the bed.”

Her eyes. I can’t…

“It’s ok. Everything is ok. You’re so pretty, Grunkle Stan.”

Don’t for the love of fucking God, don’t...

“I love you.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Gr-Grunkle Stan?

Oh my gosh. He looks like a movie star. Not like a girl, but not a boy. He’s still just, Stan. But, his face. He looked like something out of a painting. I never thought anyone could look like that in real life. 

“Grunkle Stan. You’re-you’re beautiful.”

He needs to look up from the carpet so I can see his face.

“It’s ok, honey...Wait, what?” 

“You look amazing. I-I can’t speak. Speechless, I mean. Woah.” 

Was he ok? I can’t tell under the eye shadow, but it looks like he’s going to...cry? Why? He’s so, wow.

“I’m so sorry for this, honey. I should have known better than to put you through this.”

Oh, no. Oh, Grunkle Stan, don’t please don’t. You don’t need to be sorry. God, what happened to you to make you feel so, small? I’ve never seen you like this. Sure, I’ve seen you sad, but you can’t even look me in the eyes. Please, don’t do this to yourself. 

“Give me your hand. Let’s go sit on the bed.”

His hands are shaking.

“It’s ok. Everything is ok. You’re so pretty, Grunkle Stan.”

Come on. Sit down with me. I’ve got you. Mabel to the rescue!

“I love you.”

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Fuck.”

That’s it. Give up. That’s right. Break down like the little bitch that you are. She can’t think any less of you. You’re wearing a fucking PINK DRESS covered in makeup, sobbing like a child. Give up. 

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”

I’m here, Grunkle Stan. It’s ok. I’m here. 

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

She was petting my back. Oh my god. Why. Why do I want this so bad?

“Ha. My entire life has been nothing but mistakes, Mabel. You have no idea the things that I have done. The people that I have hurt. That I’ve killed. The things in my head. The things I want to do. The people I want to be with. It’s all wrong. Everything about me is wrong. I’m the reject. I shouldn’t have made it this long. My parents should have drown me in the tub as soon as they realized which of us were going to be worth something. I love you kids so fucking much, it hurts to look at you sometimes. I was nothing until you two came alone. Every night I lay awake thinking about my brother. If he was alive, dead, I didn’t know. This house was so quiet. So lonely. I wanted to die. I’m still not sure I don’t. I don’t want to lose you guys. I can’t lose everyone. Not again.”

What was coming out of my mouth. I can feel myself talking but all that matters is that hand. 

“Come here, Grunkle Stan. Lay down. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere. None of us are going anywhere.”

My makeup is going totally not going to be beautiful in the next five seconds. Stan was so hurt. This was WAY more than the dress deal. Has he ever opened up to anyone? Was I really the only one he could trust? 

Lay down. Yeah. Lay down. This is so wrong. I’m sobbing like a child, in a dress, curled around my 13 year old niece like she was the only thing keeping gravity from pulling me away. I wish it would. 

“I’m sorry. Everything I’ve- I want-Mabel, I’m s-sorry. Please, p-please forgive me.” 

“It’s alright, Grunkle Stan. Everything, it’s all in the past. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. I’ll always love you. Until the day I die and I get to go haunt people with you. You’re never going to be alone again.”

His hair still smelled good. It was so soft. I wish I could have been here so long ago. His neck is going to be covered in my lipstick and eyeshadow. I don’t really care. 

“I l-love you. I love you all-all s-so much.”

Her face on my neck, her quiet sniffles muffled in my hair, I don’t deserve this. She was so perfect. Pure, innocent and kind. Everything I’m not. Everything I’d never be. 

“I promise I’ll never go. No matter what you’ve done or will do. Just never leave me and Dip. Or Ford or Fiddleford. You don’t know how much we need you, Grunkle Stan.”

I can’t pull her close enough. I can’t leave her. I can’t. 

“Get off of the cover’s Grunkle Stan. Let’s take a nap and redo our makeup later. I want to have dinner like this.”

Dinner. Yeah. Sure, whatever. I don’t care anymore. Anything she wants. Her little feet are so cold. 

“You’re so warm. Waddles doesn’t have nothing on you. I hope you don’t mind cuddles. Because you’re getting them if you want them or not.”

Her little body fit against my chest like it was a missing puzzle-piece you hadn’t known you missed. 

“Whenever you want them, sweetheart. I’ll be here.”

“Me too, Grunkle Stan.”

I guess dinner is going to be at 3am. I haven’t slept that long in years.


End file.
